


Safe Harbor

by laEsmeralda



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:51:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laEsmeralda/pseuds/laEsmeralda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James presses his affections on Will and learns some unexpected things about himself, Will, and Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"James, is there some reason you would persist in coming here nearly every day this week?" Will's voice conveyed some annoyance. He had been interrupted in the middle of a delicate tempering process. "I am not harboring Jack. He's too smart to come here." 

Norrington was silent. He removed his hat.

Will continued speaking. "Not that I do not enjoy your company, but I would rather extend to you the grace of our hearth and dinner table than have us shouting to each other over the bellows." Will pulled the piece from the fire and plunged it into the lead bath. "And I never seem to be decent when you drop by," he added under his breath. Will was painfully conscious of being sooty and sweaty next to the orderly blue and silver uniform. The Commodore was always impeccably dressed.

Barely listening, Norrington watched sweat trickle from the hollow of Will's throat down the long, dividing channels of his naked chest and stomach. 

Norrington shifted his weight from one boot to the other, his buttons clicking, sword clanking against pistols. "I am here, Will, because Jack Sparrow has a new blade."

Will shrugged. "What of it?"

"'It _is_ your handiwork."

"Yes."

"Aiding and abetting?"

"I make no secret of my friendships, Commodore."

"William, do not resort to formality with me. Titles are unnecessary." 

"Clearly, Sir, we are not past this issue in our own friendship as you press me on it again and again. Thus, I must address you with more distance." 

Will brought the small, leather-bound hammer down hard on the stubborn metal, testing it, muscles flexing. "You are an honorable man, James. I understand that you must do your work. I don't interfere with it unless one or the other of you gains the upper hand. Clearly, the chase must continue, but I would see harm come to neither of you."

Norrington took a step forward. "Then perhaps you should have a look at this." He reached past his greatcoat buttons and loosened his waistcoat and the lace at his throat, pulling his shirt open. A bandage crossed his collarbones, and he gingerly moved it aside. A red slice appeared, just healed over with rusty blood. "Your gift did this yesterday."

Will put the tools aside and reached over to examine the wound, looking worried, then relieved. "It's quite shallow, James. He did not intend to seriously harm you, only to irritate you. In which he has succeeded." His hands fell away. "Still, I'm sorry. I shall speak to him... when I next happen to see him. Perhaps you should not play cat and mouse with him so often." Will smiled with mischief. "At least his claws are of clean steel now and no longer apt to give you lockjaw."

"So I am the mouse then?" Norrington stood stiffly, his pride insulted. 

Will turned back to the forge and shook his head with a sigh. "The two of you seem to take turns, it is a game you both enjoy too much. Elizabeth worries for your safety, and frankly, so do I. It's been nearly a year, James, we wish you would reprioritize. There are worse threats to the Empire."

Norrington snorted, walking over to finger a fine sword. "I should reprioritize when I am in the right?"

Will grinned. "Of course you are in the right, with that true moral compass of yours, how else would it be? But can you not think of him as just a sort of seafaring Robin Hood?"

"Robin Hood did not keep so much of his ill-gotten gains."

"Then can't you simply keep an eye on him? Go after him only if he gets into serious mischief?" 

"That depends."

"On what?"

"I have been trying to decide why a man like you, one who works so hard, who always puts others before himself, would continue to help a man like that."

"I enjoy knowing that Jack is sailing free. I have a streak of adventure in me. It's in the blood. You know this all too well."

"Indeed, but you've also chosen to continue your craft, to build a home with Elizabeth, to engage yourself as a member of polite society. Why continue to jeopardize your position by maintaining a friendship with Sparrow?"

"I'm loyal, James. Is that so hard to believe?"

"No. Though I would have your loyalty as well."

"You do have it. I admire you for being true to your nature--forthright and honorable. And I admire that Jack is who he says he is, fierce and flawed, honest and free."

"Is there more though?" Norrington's lowered voice sounded hopeful.

"More?"

"Never mind." Norrington tapped one boot against the forge. "Will, do you find it odd that we are friends?"

"I find you unusually gracious toward me, considering that you might otherwise have married Elizabeth and seem to hold no grudge about it."

"Hmm. I've no doubt of your love for your wife, and hers for you. And your passion for each other was clear when she was captured. It was the right choice for me to step aside. Fine woman that she is, and fond as I am of her, it wouldn't be right to keep her without passion. I could not allow ambition to override her happiness. Or my own."

"A noble perspective, fortunately for me."

"Not so noble, William, as you might think. When you went racing off after her, without concern for your own peril, I had cause to ask myself why I did not, why I fell to organizing and planning instead. Partly, it is my nature. But in part, I did not feel the terror that you did for her."

"I see." Will was busy polishing now, engaged in the conversation, relaxed. "Terror indeed, James, my insides were being torn out. When you've experienced that, I suppose you know that you're in love, and you must put that person first, even if your love is not returned."

Norrington went to the door and peered outside, ducking back in and dropping the bar behind him. "I have felt such a thing, though not for Elizabeth."

Will did not notice, nor did he notice when the tall man laid his hat, pistols, and sword on the bench by the door. "You haven't mentioned such a woman before... you must tell me of her. But let us not inform Elizabeth of the comparison, for she would be vain enough to wonder why she didn't stir your protective instinct the same way," Will chuckled.

"I wondered if you felt it for Jack, the way you stood between him and my sword."

Will's eyebrows shot up and he raised his head, a retort on his lips, but he saw that Norrington was in earnest. "Indeed, not," he replied, frowning. "Not the same thing at any rate." 

"Too bad in a way. I thought you might understand." 

Will laid his work aside and wiped his hands. "James, what the bloody hell is this about?" He watched in astonishment as Norrington slowly, slowly lowered himself to his knees on the leather fireblanket. Well-groomed hands came to rest against Will's trousers.

"This," Norrington squeezed gently, "is what this is about."

Will's head spun as he struggled to find the right reaction for a friend, a respected member of a small community, a prideful man. "James, I am married." The safest response. He touched Norrington's shoulder. "Please, get up." 

"I cannot," Norrington replied in a rasping voice. "You will have to kick me away as I deserve to be kicked." His fingers began to work on Will's belt. 

Will inexplicably felt himself swell in response. He grabbed for Norrington's hands. "I will not touch you in anger, my friend, please respect me enough to stop." 

His hands restrained, Norrington instead pressed his face to Will's crotch, inhaling his scent, and feeling with triumph that Will had become hard. He opened his mouth and bit down gently around the ridge in Will's trousers. 

"Sweet Jesus!" exclaimed Will. "What has come over you?"

"You want me to touch you," Norrington said desperately. "You do, your body speaks what you cannot say. Let me do this for you."

"No!"

"You do _not_ have to touch me."

"That isn't the point."

"It will not harm Elizabeth, or you, but it will give me a moment's peace."

"Commodore!" 

Norrington's back stiffened. He backed away. Without another word, he rose to his feet and straightened his coat, keeping his eyes on the ground. He knew that his own heat was more than evident. Nothing to be done about that. His face burned. After a few heartbeats, after his breath steadied, his eyes flicked to Will's. He nodded briskly. "My deepest apologies, Turner." With that, he turned and went to collect his things.

"James..."

"Don't. I only ask that my indiscretion remain between us."

"Of course." Will sounded so distressed that Norrington actually flinched.

"It was nothing you did or said, William. This is my doing alone. Your response means nothing except that a man's body always responds to being touched with desire." With that, he was gone.  
******

Norrington flushed hot and cold replaying the events in his mind in his quarters above the barracks. He poured himself another glass of wine. It had been a serious misjudgment. A social horror. 

He had refused dinner and all callers. How would he ever get through the gathering tomorrow night at Governor Swann's? How could he sit across the table from Will?

With dignity. As always. Dignity. He laughed coldly, tossing the map he had _not_ been reading across the room. He stripped off his coat, and his waistcoat, then his scarf and shirt, undressing with vehemence, revealing garment by garment a body that women swooned for and men feared. 

'What good is it if it cannot call to it what it wants?' he thought with frustration. Snatching the glass, he threw back the last of the wine and poured a cognac. He drank it while pacing the floor naked. 

The only thing not to be regretted was having felt, smelled, and almost tasted Will's flesh. That memory would be fresh for some time. Will had sprung to life under his hand before the young man had a chance to think. So thick and hard. Swallowing a groan, Norrington walked over and bolted his door. 

At last, he retired to his bedchamber and fell back on the bed. Having paid an exceedingly high price for the new information, he decided to make use of it. He reached for himself, and his cock obliged him by being more than ready. He wondered for a moment if it would be considered beautiful by a lover. It was strong and smooth at least. As he stroked and fondled it, he took himself back to the smithy, to the sight of Will's sweaty skin overheated at the forge, to the smell of him permeating the air. He closed his eyes.

Things could have turned out so differently...

"Sweet Jesus!" exclaimed Will. "What has come over you?"

"You want me to touch you," Norrington said desperately. "You do, your body speaks what you cannot say. Let me do this for you."

"No!"

"You do _not_ have to touch me."

"That isn't the point."

"It will not harm Elizabeth, or you, but it will give me a moment's peace." Norrington wrested free and unbuckled Will's pants, his hands slipping in and grasping the slightly damp flesh within. 

"Unh," Will grunted involuntarily. "Stop, James, please."

"I cannot. You'll have to hurt me to stop me." Norrington was utterly prepared to be struck or kicked. He realized he might actually come if Will did. Just to have Will touch him would bring a wave of unspeakable pleasure.

"I don't want to hurt you," Will was hoarse.

"Then simply hold still. That is all I require of you." It was an order given with the confidence of years of wielding authority.

Will froze, bracing his hands against the worktable behind him. 

Norrington deftly pulled Will's cock free and shuddered with delight as it tapped his cheek. The fingers of one hand curled around the base, and he scooped Will's balls into his other palm.

"James, please." Will's legs were trembling.

"Please, what, Will?" Norrington licked once, base to tip. The smooth, firm, rigid flesh surged in his hands. He began to lap at it. He was trembling himself, pleasure burning through him. He did not expect an answer and was only grateful that Will was not pushing him away.

His own cock was trapped tight within his clothing, and only a slight writhing was needed to please it.

"Mmmm," he murmured, his tongue sliding around Will. He planted a hand on Will's abdomen and proceeded to nearly choke himself with Will's cock.

Will's head fell back, and he groaned softly. "Oh."

Norrington flexed the hand buried in Will's trousers, massaging the crinkled and tightening skin, weighing the man's measure in his palm. He did to Will what he had always wanted done to him, what he craved. Will was a man who deserved pleasure, who earned it. Deserved to be paid attention. 

When Will tensed, fighting his own body, struggling for control, Norrington defied him. He forced the orgasm from him, caused him to gasp and groan, to thrust against him and spill himself mightily, his fresh, sharp taste flooding Norrington's mouth. Then, and only then, Norrington let himself go as well.

The slap of a hot stream against his face jolted him from the fantasy. James found himself in his own bed, one knee raised, bursts of semen still pulsing from him. 

He groaned in relief and frustration, "Will."

A few minutes later, he rose, dried himself, and washed his face and hands. Pulling on his trousers and boots, he resolved to go straight to the stables and take Joshua out for a run on the beach. The night was cool, and it would help to clear his head. He had drawn his shirt over his head when a knock sounded on his door.

He threw the bolt and jerked the door open.

"Commodore, Sir, there's a visitor to see you." The man gulped.

"Did I not leave strict instructions not to admit anyone?"

"Well, Sir, begging your pardon, it's Mr. Turner. He says you're expecting that long-dagger you'd commissioned. He specified that you would be most upset not to receive it from him tonight."

Norrington almost smiled and caught himself, grew sober. Such beautiful double-entendre could only be a coincidence. In fact, the thought of facing Will after the dreadful afternoon was chilling. He sighed.

"Give me exactly five minutes and send him up." He shut the door in the sub-lieutenant's face and looked about the sitting area. All was in order except for the map on the floor. He went to retrieve it. 

Then, James shut his bedchamber door. The smell of sex hung in the air there, and it would not do at all for it to be noticed. He opened the decanter of vanilla-infused rum that he kept at the bar and poured some into his fingers, fanning them about the sitting room. Finally, he rinsed his hands, tidied his shirt, and threw on his waistcoat. He left the wig on its stand and ran a hasty hand through his short locks.

The knock was polite, tentative.

"Come," Norrington said, instantly regretting it. _Why must everything sound this way...?_ He had overstepped propriety so far that he could not imagine recovering.

There was an extended pause, then the door swung open and Will entered, shutting it firmly behind him. Norrington found himself unprepared for seeing the young man after all. 

Will had obviously been home to dinner and had washed and dressed in clean clothing. The black velvet waistcoat and grey coat gave him a more mature air. His wedding ring glinted in the lamplight. The sweat and the grime were gone, the intimacy of men's work erased. The civilized world had intruded to set clearer barriers between them. Yet, the fine skin and deep eyes were irresistible.

Nodding in a decidedly military greeting, hands behind his back, Norrington spoke. "Good evening, Will. I understand you have something for me?" he said evenly.

"James," Will began, "I could not let the day end as it did between us." He set the bundle on the table.

 _Have you come to offer me your sweet flesh, then?_ Norrington bit back the words he wanted to say. "My dear friend, you would be within rights to have me arrested. All in all, therefore, I would say the day was ending better than it should have. But I am glad to see you, nonetheless." _Although it is torture to have you here, so close to where I just spilled for you._ His chest ached.

Will met his eyes, not flinching, though some of what Norrington thought must be visible there. "You gave me safe harbor, James, I can do no less for you."

Oh, the agony of his forgiveness. And the inevitable pity. 

Will shook his head. "I do not pity you." 

Norrington startled. "How..."

"I know well what it is to want what you believe you cannot have, when birth and all the stars are against you. Understanding is warranted, not pity."

Norrington swallowed. "You have a different perspective now, as you hold what was once out of your reach."

"But I am in love with her. You are not in love with me."

A dark eyebrow raised. "That is presumptuous, Will, to tell me my own heart."

"Yes, but it is true. You love me as your friend. You desire me just as you have desired other men, and you sense that I will not harm you for revealing it. I will not."

Norrington turned his back and went to the window. "But neither can you yield to my desire when it is not yours."

"No." Will was quiet for a moment. Norrington heard him walk to the door. "But I can reveal to you something of your heart that you don't yet understand."

Norrington snorted and turned. When did the impetuous boy become this self-assured man? "What sort of challenge is this, Will?"

"Not a challenge. A game of truth." Will slid the bolt on the door. "Two rules, James, first rule--do not touch me. Some things I would not keep from Elizabeth."

Norrington's mouth went dry. "Agreed." 

"Second rule," Will took off his coat and hung it over the chair, "after tonight, we go about our friendship without complications, without asking forgiveness." He untied his ponytail and shook out his hair. Then, he pulled something out of his coat pocket, a kerchief. "Do you have a mirror?"

"In the bedchamber," Norrington offered, remembering too late that he did not want Will to go in there. Will whisked in and shut the doors tightly behind him. The tall man left standing in his wake waited, bemused. 

A few minutes later, the doors flew open. The waiting heart stopped for a moment, then thundered back to life.

Will had bound the kerchief around his head and lined his eyes with that black, bruised kohl that Sparrow always wore. His shirt was lazily open, a sash slung low on his hips. He leaned against the doorjamb. The resemblance was uncanny, as if someone had stripped away ten years of sun, wind, and salt, leaving a younger, softer Jack behind. 

The pirate swaggered into the room. "Commodore," he said with deep sarcasm, "how do you sleep without the sea rocking beneath you?" His hands mimicked the oceanic swells. "Ah, but you haven't been doing much sleeping in that bed of yours, have you now?"

Norrington flushed. The incredible creature sauntered to the table and poured himself a cognac. Took a swig of it. "Don't often see fancy swill. Tends to get spilled during boarding."

Norrington could see sweat on Will's cheek. He spoke softly. "William, I appreciate what I think you are trying to do, but you don't have to..." The sword sung out of Will's scabbard and its tip hovered just above Norrington's collar.

Will teased out the bandage with the sword tip and sliced it free. "You won't be needing that for such a little scratch, Commodore."

"James. It's James." He felt himself harden like glowing steel plunged into water.

"Well, I wondered if you actually had a given name, or if your parents gave you up to the Royal Navy at birth." The pirate laughed, teeth flashing.

The sword was sheathed as quickly as it had appeared. The waistcoat was stripped off and tossed on a chair. Brown hands went to the sword belt and unbuckled it, setting the weapon on the table. 

"Will, what on earth are you doing?"

"It's working, isn't it, James?" Will walked right up to him, nearly chest to chest. "And it's Jack, tonight, just Jack." Their lips almost touched, and James felt his knees go weak. 

Jack pulled his shirt free of his trousers and up over his head, tossing it aside. "A man should pursue what he wants, James, not wait for it to come to him. You're almost there, but you're chasing the wrong things in the wrong places." 

Norrington allowed himself to look down, taking in the smooth chest and broad shoulders. He could see past the flat stomach to a substantial bulge in the trousers beneath. "I don't think so, Jack, young Turner is delectable. I've seen you look at him. You feint toward the woman but watch the man. He makes your eyes burn." He could have sworn Jack blushed. "He burns me too."

"Something else we have in common, then." Jack showed his hands, palm out, as if in surrender. "Follow me." He backed through the bedchamber doors. Norrington followed, unable to resist the strange spell.

Jack flung himself back on the bed, leaning on his elbows, his erection outlined obscenely in tight trousers. "I sense that you are no eunich, James, for your scent pervades this little haven of yours. Were you thinking of me when you touched yourself?"

"No," whispered Norrington. He swallowed, wondering if he should go on. "I was thinking of Will." 

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, good, safe William. Dear boy. Hopeless really. Can't live on the sea, can't live on the land."

"Will is a good friend." A note of menace entered Norrington's voice. He mentally shook himself.

"Don't I know it. Anyway, enough talk about the lad."

"But you asked, and I gave you the truth, Jack." 

Deeply brown eyes looked back at him with a moment of genuine worry. "I don't doubt it, but there is a strong resemblance between him and me. You're taking the easy way--you know Will won't hurt you. I will."

"Yes, you would."

"But I'm worth the pain. The boy can't handle what you have to give. And need I remind you that he's spoken for?"

"No. I understand that. What I did today..."

"...harmed no one in the end. Might have frightened him to death for a moment, but he'll recover." Jack shifted to one elbow, freeing a hand to rub himself through his trousers. "By the timbers, James, stop talking and take off your shirt. Are we not men of action?" The hand ceased long enough to undo the top button of the trousers. Fingers dipped inside briefly, teasing along the trail of black hair. 

Norrington flicked off his waistcoat and stripped off his shirt. Whatever was happening here was simply too compelling to be stopped, consequences be damned.

Jack reached behind himself and dragged a pillow forward, tucking it under his head. The shiny hair spread over it, and his throat arched. "Mm. Who knew you would have such a manly chest under that finery. You never noticed me looking at you, eh, James?"

"No."

Another button. "In my own way, I confided in Will. He's not stupid, the whelp. Why do you think I feel the need to rankle you so?"

"Tell me."

"It seems I cannot have you between my thighs, but I can have you locked with me in a different sort of embrace as often as possible." Yet another button. More fur visible. "I do so enjoy enflaming you."

"Jack, I feel compelled to tell you that it is taking an extraordinary amount of restraint not to join you on the bed."

"Then, join me, just don't touch."

That took Norrington's breath away. "Perhaps I should stay where I am for a bit longer."

"Suit yourself," Jack purred. "Less clothing though, would be preferable." He undid the last button. "What I've seen so far is rather splendid, makes me curious about the rest." A single long finger stroked up and down the ridge beneath the loosened fabric. 

Norrington's hands flew to his own buttons. Soon his boots and trousers were discarded. He stood trembling, his cock arching up, straining against gravity. 

Jack whistled low. "Quite a fetching picture you make. I'll wager that hair is as silky as it looks. Aye, James, turn 'round for me." Norrington did. "Ah, a fine, high-water ass. I can just feel my hands running over it. Let's see your eyes again, mate."

When James turned back, he froze. Jack's cock was out in all its glory. Wait. Will's cock. It didn't matter. A glorious cock, brown and thick, satiny, with a wide ridge throbbing on the underside. 

"Oh, I so want that in my mouth," James growled. 

"Is that what you thought about this afternoon?" Jack's breath hitched as his hand worked magic. 

"Yes."

"Tell me, then." 

"Will didn't want me, but I took him anyway. I wanted it so badly he gave in."

"What did you do to him?"

"I loved his cock, I worshipped it with my mouth until he had to feed me his essence. I didn't give him a choice."

Jack gave a strangled little moan. "How did he taste?"

"Fresh, strong, wonderful."

"Then what?"

"I came so hard, Jack, that I hit myself in the face with it."

"Ah! Show, me, James. God damn it, show me!"

Norrington stepped closer to the bed, leaning one hand on the bedpost. He licked his other hand and grasped himself, planting his feet apart as if invoking his sealegs. He fucked his hand hard, relentlessly, watching Jack touch himself. His head felt light, as though he might drift up on the slightest breeze, right out the window. 

Jack lay with one arm flung back over his head, the other stroking himself fast, slick with fluid. His eyes were brazen, boring into James with all honesty. Magnificent pirate, consummate hedonist. "Pursue me, James, and not with a sword this time, or cannon, I promise you satisfaction."

"Yes," said Norrington, feeling himself step over the edge. 

Jack erupted upward, fine youthful spurts flying into the air as he thrashed and moaned beneath his own hand. 

"Jack!" Norrington cried, streams issuing forth and marking Jack's belly and legs, over and over.

He leaned into the bedpost after, his head pounding, his breath ragged. At last, he collapsed next to Jack. In a few minutes, he turned his head and was suddenly startled to see Will's fine profile, eyes closed. He sat up. The body next to him looked sweet and vulnerable, no tattoos, no hard wear of drinking. With the trousers low on his hips, cock slowly softening, Will was himself again, all disguises gone. The young man shivered. James scrambled for a towel and began wiping him off.

"I'm fine, James." The long lashes flickered open. "I'm fine." Will smiled up at him, white teeth glinting. 

James took a deep breath, a frown marking his handsome features. "I now know what that was about for me, Will, what was it for you?"

"The opportunity to give my two good friends each other. So that you might be truly happy. And not skewer one another... with swords."

Norrington laughed. "William, the fact that you might be right about my heart--and I am not saying that you are--does not diminish the fact that I also desire you for yourself."

Will shook his head. "It cannot be. You know that."

"I know." He toyed with a lock of glossy hair, careful not to touch Will's face. "Still, was there any part of you that was not pretending to be Jack seducing me?"

The brown eyes glowed. "It was all me, James, right down to what you just wiped off my body. And now, I have to go home. I want to go home."

Norrington sighed. "I would like to kiss you, Will. Shh. I won't." He placed a calming hand over Will's heart but did not let it linger. "Thank you for showing me young Jack. I think perhaps older Jack and I will find our peace after all."

"You're welcome, my friend." Will pushed himself upright and buttoned his trousers. 

Norrington folded his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling, feeling utterly relaxed. Then a problematic thought tensed him again. "William, you have not, by chance, played this game with Captain Sparrow?"

Will's laughter was genuine. "Why, no! Being generally lawless, he does not need anyone to show him his want or how to capture his treasure." He walked back through the other room, gathering articles of clothing, and returned, fully dressed, to scrub the kohl from his face and tie back his hair. "He did kiss me though. Once."

Sitting up suddenly, Norrington could not keep the consternation from his face. "What?"

"Ah, sorry." Will lowered his voice. "Elizabeth knows about that. Of course. I told her before she agreed to marry me. He pinned me to the mast, James. It wasn't exactly voluntary on my part. Entirely. At first."

Norrington struggled with mixed feelings. "What happened then?"

Will blushed. Norrington thought it remarkable he could still do that after what had just happened. "He said what I thought was the most oddly insulting thing at the time, but he was right." 

For a moment, Jack's demeanor and voice returned to the young man, bringing a smile to Norrington's lips. "Well, then, not a eunich after all, eh, Lad? A little too soft for me though, just right for the young lass and her romantic heart. Oh, don't fret, I don't mean there-- _that's_ hard enough. I mean here," Jack tapped his lips, biting the end of his finger. "No offense, but I prefer a man with authority. A little steely coldness. A man who would fight me in earnest and still rip off his own fine, blue uniform for me at the opportune moment." 

Will's eyes traveled over the strewn clothing and back to James, still naked. He grinned and headed for the door. At the threshold, he looked back. "Don't forget to open my present. You should wear it tomorrow. We're expecting a special guest at dinner, much to The Governor's chagrin. I wasn't going to tell you until you were safely locked in the house. But I changed my mind. It's your move. Don't squander it."

When James heard the door click, he rose to pad into the sitting room. He unwrapped the cloth from the bundle Will had brought and smiled broadly. Lying in his hands was the perfect mate to the dagger that had cut him yesterday. Safe harbor, indeed.  
*******


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Elizabeth conspire to bring their friends together. Will gets trapped in the middle.

Stepping within the Governor's mansion, Commodore James Norrington handed the butler his hat. The dignified serving man cleared his throat. "Apologies, Sir, by special order, swords must be surrendered tonight as well."

James nearly grinned, but suppressed it. Such a smile was not at all the reaction that would be expected of him. Instead, he wrinkled his brow appropriately. "Of course, if the Governor insists." He unbuckled and produced the sword belt. 

"James, so glad you could join us," Elizabeth swept into the room and took both his hands. She dazzled him as always.

He leaned to kiss her cheek and smiled. "You know, Mrs. Turner, that I am ever at your bidding." He gave her recently acquired title with humor though his heart pounded. Upon first sight of her, he could not help but think of the wanton scene in his bedroom the night before, Will-as-Jack nearly naked on his sheets. He was certain that Will would not have given Elizabeth the details. He also felt certain that the young man would not keep his beloved entirely in the dark. An awkward thought on many levels.

As James regarded the extraordinary woman before him, he felt the ache of regret for his actions in the smithy, accompanied by a tinge of relief that Will had not responded to him. 

Elizabeth smiled back into his eyes with clarity of understanding that nearly made him flinch, but she spoke of other things. "Father is in a state tonight. It seems that though he yields to my requests, he thinks me self-indulgent and silly for them."

"Shall I set him right for you, Elizabeth, explain to him the extent of your Machiavellian mind?"

"No, I think I prefer to be underestimated for now." She linked her arm in his and drew him toward the library.

"Very well. I shall be complicit." 

Passing through the double doors into the library, James took note of the twenty or so guests, men and women, largely strangers dressed within the merchant class. Most of the men held a sheaf of papers in one hand and a libation in the other. 

As they walked, he noted the few women whose interest focused -- however surreptitiously -- on the business at hand. He smiled to himself that old habits die hard, no matter the futility. He was always looking for a suitable woman, the right match, the quick mind, ready wit, zest for life. Unfortunately, these traits seemed to accompany a high level of interest in future husbandly duties he would prefer to meet infrequently at best.

James spotted Will through the crowd, leaning against the mantel, conversing with one of the merchants. Elizabeth led James straight there. He had time to compose himself on the way across the room, to fully absorb the sight of Will. Although James felt the pull of attraction, he felt far less desperation than he had yesterday. Even when Will turned to him and smiled, what would before have been a heart-wrenching moment proved easy. His own smile was genuinely happy in return. 

Will's eyes crinkled in response. "Commodore, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Allen. He's one of the regional steel brokers. We've been discussing the Governor's plan to set the trade back on its feet."

Elizabeth leaned in close to James' ear as he reached to shake the man's hand. "It's Will's idea become Father's."

The merchant extended his hand. "These times of war have wreaked havoc with our trade. Things would be far worse but for your vigilance, Commodore. We are grateful."

"Mr. Allen," James replied, "I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Thank you for your generous words, but the Navy is merely performing its duty."

"You underestimate your contribution, Sir. And now, if you will please excuse me, I must share these details with my partner over there, Mr. Stern." Looking eager, the man bustled away.

Elizabeth patted James' arm. "James, dear, I must see to some other guests." Her smile was full of mischief. "Will can fill you in on our nefarious plans." She turned and left.

Will's eyes held his steadily. "May I interest you in a drink?"

"Absolutely." 

Will signaled to a serving man. His eyes flicked down at his own shoes for a moment. "Cognac?" he queried, sidelong, "Or is it to be vanilla-infused rum?"

James laughed easily. "I deserved that. Cognac, please," he said to the serving man.

Will did not speak further until they were alone again at the mantel. "It was an experience." He raised his eyes, only to find James' gaze fixed on his hand.

"Indeed." James realized he was studying Will's long fingers curled around the wineglass. He checked himself. "And I believe that you may have been right about matters on all counts."

Will made a skeptical noise. "We shall see, my friend."

"Thank you for the gift. It was beautiful." The voice resonated with appreciation.

"Did you bring it?" Will's murmured.

"Ah, that is not what I meant, William, but yes, I did as you instructed." James was not above being pleased that Will blushed under his tan. 

"Oh." Will took another sip of wine, avoiding James' eyes.

James drank as well, striving not to stare as the tip of Will's tongue reflexively flicked out to sweep away a drop of red. "I brought the blade as you asked, only to learn that swords are forbidden at this event." He touched his chest, feeling the slim dagger under the velvet of his coat where the heat of his body had warmed it. 

"It is not a sword, is it?" asked Will with a tender smile.

"No, indeed." James considered how both the knife and the heat were Will's handiwork. The lust might be eased and its particular call better understood, but Will remained no less attractive. James gathered himself to speak again, "But I'm not certain why I might need such a weapon at a quiet gathering."

"Overly quiet if you were to ask me," said a gravely and distinctive voice from behind his shoulder. "But then, you wouldn't. Ask me that is."

"You." James turned angrily, playing his role, determined not to let on that he had been forewarned. But his next words failed in his surprise.

Captain Sparrow gazed back at him insolently, standing well within the circle of polite distance. Neither man backed away to correct it. Jack's eyes held humor as well as challenge. The wild hair and beads and faded red kerchief were all familiar. But his sea-worn clothing had been replaced with fine black silk, linen, and leather. Every scrap of Jack's garb, save his kerchief, was black.

"What are you doing here?" he continued. He did not permit his eyes to travel the indecent opening of Jack's shirt as the dark fabric demanded of him.

"I was invited. Proper." Gold glinted in Jack's smile and his eyes slid to Will. "But I wasn't told you'd be here, Commodore." Jack took a deep drink from his glass and James caught the odor of fine rum.

"Captain Sparrow is part of Governor Swann's plan," said Will, "and he is, as you are aware, my friend." His eyes locked with James' in a silent plea.

James acquiesced with the slightest of nods.

"Don't be so modest, young William," Jack sashayed closer to Will and draped an arm over his shoulders. "It's your idea and a canny one at that. Though I'm not at all sweet on the idea of being official with the Governor, the profit is right."

James' nostrils flared. He was already irritated, riled as ever by Jack's demeanor. And concerned at being kept in the dark about a scheme involving waters under his protection. The pirate's hand lingered on Will's neck, almost possessively. The way his hips hovered close to Will's body was just shy of being lewd. 

It was not difficult to imagine what would draw him so close. James briefly shut his eyes to banish the vision of Jack pinning Will to the Interceptor's mast and taking that mouth in what very well might have been Will's very first lover's kiss. James wondered what rankled him more, Jack himself or the fact that Jack was touching Will.

"Of course, the official part is somewhat up to the good Commodore here. Regardless of terms, I cannot imagine him agreeing. So long as it involves me." Jack gave a wink. 

"Neither can I," replied James dryly, "though I would have to actually hear the details to have an opinion." He looked pointedly at Will.

"I apologize, James, it was necessary until Governor Swann made a preliminary decision. He will, of course, make a final decision only with your blessing on the details."

"Why don't I leave you two to discuss said details," Jack regarded the bare inside of his glass with displeasure, "and I shall go and find myself some more of this lovely rum, perhaps in the company of your lovely wife." 

James watched Jack meander through the guests. Though his military training urged him to scoff at a man who would carry himself with such excess of movement, something else stirred in him instead. Jack was always boiling just beneath the surface, his power at the ready, concealed under a distracting number of mannerisms. James thought of the barracks cat that wound itself around his ankles when it wanted something and purred in his lap after a good meal, the same one that inexplicably terrified the hounds. "He is.... " James struggled for the right adjectives to express his deep and complicated frustration. 

"I haven't found one word alone that does him justice. Conundrum, perhaps," Will offered with a smile. 

"Are you quite certain you do not fancy him?" James breathed past the rim of his glass.

"I gave you my answer yesterday, did I not?" He studied James for a moment before speaking again. "The house and its grounds have been declared safe tonight, and I hope that you will honor that. Jack has given us his word."

In turn, James regarded Will, making the inevitable comparisons with Jack and feeling again a surge of heat. Recalling Will's logic as to why Jack would be the better lover, he thought to himself, _You underestimate yourself, William, you could take everything I have to give._ Judging from the expression that came over Will's face, some of what he was thinking could be seen. He composed himself. "I will do as you ask. My duty has been mitigated tonight by Governor Swann's order."

"Thank you. Onward to business. The thought would be for The Black Pearl to make a run to the northern colonies with goods and return loaded with steel. Safer than exposing a civilian ship, and if the Pearl engages an enemy ship, well, it would be self-defense for Jack to take it."

James could not conceal his astonishment. "You would have me give _that man_ safe passage through our waters?"

"James, the Crown does it all the time. It is a necessity in these times."

"I am to ignore his criminal status?"

"Temporarily. For the time of the run. Of course, he risks being attacked by both the enemy and any of our ships that have not learned of the cooperation."

"Why would he take such risk?"

"The high price of steel that actually arrives in port. And the adventure."

"He will find a way to bend the intent of it to suit himself."

"You will be close enough behind to keep him honest."

"He would suffer that?" Astonishment had changed to amusement. 

"He has not given his answer yet." Worry settled again into Will's face. "Except to say that he will not change his colors. Which puts him at greater risk."

"I see." James wanted badly to stroke a hand across that high forehead to ease the lines. Instead, he sipped his cognac. "In concept, were we speaking of another candidate, the idea is a fine one, solving several problems in one stroke."

"No other candidate among the privateers would be as bound by loyalty to Elizabeth and me than Jack is. While that is no guarantee of conformance -- and I am clear on that -- we believe the accord will prove beneficial to everyone. Except, for course, for the overly ambitious French and Spanish ships."

It took effort not to argue the point of Jack's loyalty. "Understanding all of your good motives, I will give it full consideration."

"Thank you," Will said quietly. His eyes reflected relief, and also a little sadness.

"Tell me." With surprise, James heard his own voice, often curt, soften with tenderness. 

"I am so happy in my situation. I wish the same could be true for you, and I am sorry for my part in contributing to any difficulty."

James leaned closer to Will's ear. "Sorry? I thought we had resolved this last evening, my friend. You have been nothing but kind in attempting to release me from chains of my own making. What I do with that freedom is up to me. If I choose to keep to the strictures of society, that is my own decision. If I do not?" James shrugged, eliciting a smile again from Will that was well worth the white lie.  
*******

Dinner seemed endless. An active man in both nature and practice, James tolerated social functions with good grace. But he did not enjoy the evening once separated from the immediate company of Will and Elizabeth. They now sat together at the far end of the table. 

Across the table, Jack was quiet, drinking and listening. They managed to largely avoid one another's overt attention.

Governor Swann had no sense for guiding his guests in conversation. Over dessert, as yet another merchant began a tale of good bargains, James' eyes flicked up and at last caught Jack's. The pirate's eyes burned with impatience as well. He looked ready to leave his skin behind in order to escape. Yet he was not performing his usual tricks designed to shock and dismay. A tiny smile touched the corners of James' mouth, and Jack gave a slight nod in return. 

Business had long been concluded. Now the guests were simply enjoying the drink and the music, reluctant to go back to claustrophobic inns or tiny ship cabins. At last, Elizabeth prompted her father to suggest that the guests might enjoy after dinner drinks on the wide porch overlooking the harbor where the breeze was cool.

James took her aside. "Elizabeth, I could use a breath of air myself, preferably away from the crowd."

"Are you well?"

"Perfectly, just a bit overtaxed by the, ah, society of the evening." He would have liked to excuse himself altogether to return to the barracks, but Jack was still about somewhere. James had no intention of leaving him with the good-hearted Turners until he had some answers from the man. "Do you think Will would mind if I took a look at his new horse?"

"Not at all, he'd be delighted to have your opinion on her." She kissed him on the cheek.

Thus freed of obligation for a time, James walked out to the smaller private stable. He entered the well-lit building and called for the stable boy. No one answered. The new filly nickered in her stall and came to look at him, curious.

"You are a fine one." James stroked her neck. The feel of it suddenly put him in mind of Jack's thumb on Will's neck, the way it had slid back and forth, slowly. He patted the horse and turned away from her. Clearly, he needed another diversion. He reached into his coat, and drew out the dagger to examine it yet again. 

Spectacular workmanship. Graceful, elegant, yet strong and dangerous. Balanced. He ran a finger carefully along the blade. It had Will's mark, his patience and warmth. But James knew that Will had not intended it to be emblematic of himself. It had a black handle, inlaid with silver and a single black pearl. Once more, that detail drew a wry smile from James.

"Positively gorgeous, isn't it?" _That_ voice sounded in the darkness. "I'd accuse you of piracy if I didn't feel my own blade safe and sound right where it belongs."

"And where is that if not between your ribs, Captain Sparrow?" Although he was startled, James allowed his normally sardonic tone to take an even sharper edge.

"Wouldn't give my secrets away now, would I? Let's just say I like to warm it with my bare skin." Jack stepped out of the darkness and the blade was in his hand. He flipped it and proffered it hilt first to James. "Have a look, Commodore. I'd like to compare them myself. I must confess to disappointment that we were treated so... equally." He made a gesture of distaste. "And here I thought I had a unique place in the boy's heart," he mocked.

_You do_ , thought James. But he pointedly ignored the verbal bait and took the dagger instead. He examined the two side-by-side. "They are not identical after all, though nearly. Same weight, but with slightly different points of balance."

Jack drew closer to share the pool of brighter lantern light. His own dagger bore a star sapphire in place of the pearl. "I do believe that young Turner has erred and gifted yours to me and mine to you." He watched James closely, sidelong.

"It is not the sort of error Will would make," James said with confidence. 

"Would you not prefer the clarity of a bright jewel, hardened in fire, the color of your uniform, to the dusky obscurity of a substance exuded by a bottom feeding shellfish?" Jack's incredible pantomime of each process of formation accompanied his description.

James straightened abruptly and returned Jack's dagger to him, hilt first. "I would gratefully accept whatever Will would give me and I would understand that he had chosen carefully. Yours is ideal for throwing, mine for parrying. How appropriate."

"Ah, more discerning than I thought." Jack made his obeisance with hands clasped before him and stepped back. "What else have you gratefully accepted from dear William?" His voice was lower now, warm and dangerous.

James considered a frosty retort, then thought better of it. To appear defensive would give away the larger truth. "His advice. His friendship. I do confess to doubting him when you tested that blade on my throat."

"'Twas but a playful nick." Jack flipped the dagger in the air, catching it, and it disappeared. "To keep a worthy adversary sharp, shall we say. Can you swim?"

The abrupt change of topic startled James. "Of course."

"I meant to tell you, before, about the swimming. It very nearly cost us all Elizabeth. Some of your men lack that skill. I cannot see you brooking landlubbers in your regiment."

James bristled. "That should not have been overlooked. I will see to it."

"Just friendly advice, mate." Jack's teeth glinted, then his eyes moved back to James' dagger. "Have you baptized that blade yet?"

"No. It was just given to me last night."

Jack raised a knowing eyebrow. "I'll make you an offer you shouldn't refuse, for I won't make it again." He took another step back, and his fingers brushed his bare throat. "I'll let you even the score, right here and now. Then, we can let bygones be just that, have a drink, and I can give Will his answer one way or the other with a clear head."

James nearly shivered with a sense of menace and excitement together. "I pledged a truce on this ground, for tonight."

"So did I."

"Yet you propose a fight."

Jack regarded him with a sly smile. "No, I face you with bare hands." He turned his palms outward and showed his sleeves. "No tricks either."

"I do not fight the unarmed." That did emerge frosty and defensive.

"Who proposed fighting? Consider this: mark me, as I have marked you. And we are done. A cut for a cut, my blood for yours." He pulled his shirt open further, bringing scars into view. 

James viewed the expanse of brown skin abruptly marred by fading tattoos and gnarled scars, each promising and concealing a story. He eased a breath inward. "That would be..." For the second time in one night, he struggled for the right words.

Jack tossed his head and the trinkets in his hair tinkled as they fell together. "Uncivilized. But fair, you must admit. I don't suppose you've heard of karma, have you now? Go ahead."

The dagger shifted in James' palm almost of its own accord but he kept it lowered. "The spirit does not move me, Sparrow."

"You lie, Norrington," Jack retorted, omitting the title just as James had done. "It moves you but you resist it. Just as you resist tasting sweet William's lips. A shame."

"How dare you!" James took a step forward, blade flashing, stopped only by the smugness of Jack's smile.

"You could. He wouldn't hurt you. Wouldn't strike back. I tested him." Jack stepped away and then back. "Oh, not to worry, no harm done, he's not for me, or you, he's for Elizabeth. And now he's certain of that too."

James snorted. "Doing your civic duty? That's how you see it?"

"Nah. Pirate." Jack fingered his own lips in recollection. "I tasted him strictly for my own pleasure. Take what you can, give nothing back. But there's no point in forcing a fine thing, ruining it in the process. And you must admit that Will's a fine thing indeed." Jack's eyes pierced James. "I just needed to know if he was to be _my_ fine thing."

The difference in Jack and Will's stories struck James all of a sudden. Jack had changed the tale for Will's sake, concealing the young man's unexpected response.

"How did you know he wasn't for you?" James tried to sound only mildly interested.

"Too gentle for my tastes."

"No. I mean, how did you know he didn't want you?" James kept his voice low in case they were overheard.

Jack's eyes veiled for a moment. "Not exactly what I said now, was it?" He circled James, forcing the man to turn with him. "I knew his heart long before that, I suppose I just didn't want to know it."

"I understand," whispered James after a moment. He stopped tracking Jack and stood still. So did Jack.

"What did you do to him?" Jack breathed by his ear. "Thought you were an upstanding citizen. Buttoned tight into your uniform."

James flinched but didn't answer. 

"I know you didn't taste him, Norrington, I could see that on your face back at the house." At the notion that anyone could have seen his hunger, James panicked. Jack chuckled at the barely perceptible shift in the broad shoulders, "Don't worry, mate, it takes one to know one around here. You're the very paragon of discretion, poor you."

"Well, I believe we have concluded our discussion." James moved to tuck his dagger back into his coat, then decided that he preferred to keep it at hand. "Goodnight, Captain Sparrow." He managed one long stride toward the stable doors before he found Jack in his path. "It is remarkably unwise to stand between me and my way out," he said, dryly.

Jack's grin grew inexplicably broad. "I once said something very similar to a bonny blacksmith." He folded his arms. "As I recall, he was not moved, even with my pistol in his face. I'll not be outdone by less."

James snarled and advanced on Jack. "You are a menace. A gamesman. A manipulator of innocents."

"Do you find Will's judgment so lacking? Or Elizabeth's? Are they but poor little lambs without a wit to share between them? Look again."

"Do not play with my words as you have with their hearts." 

"I will play with whatever I choose."

Before he could stop himself, James had the blade pressed to Jack's throat. His forearm ground into Jack's chest. "You had best have a care what you choose, then." He became vaguely aware of Jack's scent, of rum, sweat and pine tar, ocean swells, spice-infused silk and maleness.

"Are their hearts so wounded by my friendship?" Jack's chin came up further, arching his throat into the sharp edge rather than away from it. "I think not. Elizabeth is quit of corsets. You are saved from a polite but empty marriage by the way. And Will has learned to breathe as well. Where is the harm to them? Why the anger at me?" Jack's eyes glittered. "The further from your waters I carry my business, the further you pursue me."

"You plague me at every turn. 'Cat and mouse' Will termed it, yesterday, this thing I am forced to do by duty." James knew he had flushed deep, could feel the heat high in his face. "You strike at me to compel me to strike you back. You enjoy it."

The black eyes narrowed. "I see us as adversaries. You see us as enemies. I do not hate you, as Commodore or just plain Norrington, though you've tried to have me killed on more than one occasion. I've never threatened your life."

James pondered it, all of it true. "I merely uphold the law. You've had more than one chance to abide it. More than one chance to escape. Yet you keep coming back, taunting me." 

"That I do," replied Jack evenly. He said no more. 

As the conversation diffused James' rage, he began to step back, to pull the knife away, to regain a hold on his runaway temper. 

Jack caught his hand. Slowly, holding James' eyes every moment, Jack drew the dagger low across his own throat. James resisted, Jack did not stop. 

The balance of force between them resulted in the most shallow of cuts, and James began to realize, as the dagger laid open the surface of the brown flesh, that he could not let go or Jack's throat would be cut. Jack swallowed hard as red beaded along the fine edge of the blade and trickled down his chest. He strained with the effort of struggle against James' resistance. "We balance each other, Norrington," he rasped, "either we both press on or we both let go. It doesn't work any other way."

Eyes locked, each waited until it seemed the right moment. And then, they released, both stepping back. The dagger returned solely to James' grasp. He stared at the gleaming steel marked with bright red. It occurred to him that this was the first time he had ever drawn Jack's blood and he had not willingly done so.

Jack's head tilted up and his mouth caught James' lips with force. It would have been a bite but for the softness of Jack's tongue that followed. And then just as quickly, Jack was drawing away. 

James grabbed a handful of thick locks. "Come back," he murmured, shocking himself. 

Jack leaned closer, nearly against James, but not touching him. "Not here. You've a reputation. So do I. Savvy?"

"Yes, here," James answered. Firmly. For once, he wanted to let desire drown his good judgment.

Jack's eyes widened in surprise. "Do you even care to know whether I barred the door?"

James didn't answer. Instead, he bent, his nose brushing Jack's cheek as he went, and licked the trickle of blood from Jack's collarbones in one long sweep. He savored his second and different taste of Jack. "I do not wish to hurt you." His fingers traced the edge of the cut.

Jack clutched at James' shoulder with one hand as hot breath tickled his skin. "I was making a dramatic point," he chuckled breathlessly, "It seems to have been well taken."

James straightened, his lips smeared with red. They both moved, closing the gap. Jack's body, sinewy and tight, felt perfect against him, and he let his breath out hard before their mouths touched again. The tang of blood and gold, sour of rum, wet of Jack drew him down to depths of the unknown. And then Jack's hand was on him, squeezing hard, fingers rolling in exploration, and James groaned. "Where is the stable boy?" he managed. 

"Busy with the guests' horses for the moment." Again he bit into James' mouth. 

A broad hand made its way down Jack's back to grasp at his rump. "Not enough time if we stay here," James murmured at the end of the kiss.

"No quick spin around the deck, then?" Jack quipped.

"How long have I been chasing you?" 

"In what sense, exactly, Commodore?" Jack breathed at James' ear.

James' fingers tightened. "How long."

Jack paused in his various movements and looked straight into James' eyes. "'All possible meanings of the phrase silent as the grave.' I believe that was it. Just over a year ago."

A warm half-smile emerged. "'Inescapably.' Perhaps before that as well, but I was still smarting from your first escape."

"Yet you set me to be hanged after that," Jack could not conceal his hurt. And then, at the softening that occurred around James' eyes, he could not conceal his surprise.

"The law gave me no choice. Will saved you and I allowed him to."

"Such a fine lad he's proven to be." Black eyes sparkled.

James refused to be diverted again. "Do you plan to remain here past morning?"

Jack lowered his eyes. "No."

"To answer your question, then, a quick spin around the deck is not at all what I have in mind. Though you will have to beware my stumbling, for I do not know the course." He was answered by Jack melting against him from the waist down.

"Well then," Jack reached into his pocket and withdrew a key. "Provision has been made." Jack spun and strode to the door, pushing it open and looking outside. 

"Not barred, then?" James said, deadpan.

"Of course not. Learned my lesson about that. I only wanted to know if you cared. Love that you didn't. Life is full of surprises."

James followed as Jack made his way further back in the compound. A faint glow emerged from the gardens ahead and they found themselves before a tiny cottage, one room at best. The door stood ajar. They looked at one another. 

"Who knows you are here?" whispered James.

Jack shook his head. "Only those at the house tonight. At least until everyone left." At that thought, both drew daggers and together, burst into the room.

Will whirled, his arms full of wood which he very nearly dropped. "Oh, God, you scared me to death," he exclaimed.

James shut the door firmly behind him and looked to the small windows. The thick curtains were already drawn.

Will set the logs down by the fireplace. The crackling fire was the main source of the glow, though a few candles burned as well.

"Well, young William, I wasn't expecting to come upon anyone here. Given your recommendation, after all, that I could berth here in perfect safety." Jack drew closer. "Waiting up for me, were you? I'm sorry to disappoint, lad, but I'm otherwise engaged." A finger extended and traced Will's jaw. 

Will's throat quivered but he did not flinch away. "Just being a proper host," he said softly. His eyes flicked to James and a smile followed as he brushed wood chips from his shirt. "Frankly, Jack, I wasn't expecting you to retire so soon. Didn't want you to run out of fire or water," he grinned, "or rum. The essentials."

Side by side in the low firelight, the resemblance between Jack and Will struck James harder than it had before. And it was clear to him now that if a choice were open, he would choose the tautness of Jack's power over the tenderness of Will. But such tenderness it was. And such wicked things could be done with it. He shuddered to think of Will's little game of the night before. Jack didn't know about that. 

James stepped forward and laid a hand on Will's shoulder. "Indulge me for a moment?" Will looked at him in surprise, then nodded once, trusting. James' thoughts warned, _Don't trust me right now, I'm dangerous_ , but his mouth kept silent. His hand slid from the young man's shoulder up his neck and into his hair, turning his face. 

The first kisses were easy, cheeks, forehead, eyelids, jaw. Though unsure at first, Will smiled and leaned in like a child receiving his due of affection. But then, the hot mouth snagged his on the way to his cheek. He made a surprised noise as James swept an arm around him, pulling him tight.

"Just a moment here, gentlemen," Jack said with some irritation. 

But a moment wasn't taken. James didn't kiss Will as he had kissed Jack, with plundering intent. He kissed Will to taste him a little, to gentle him into staying when he might otherwise flee. It was a slow kiss, for all the kisses he had foregone, for the kiss he had promised last night not to give. Will's hands hovered by James' sides, at a loss. 

James did not require experience with men to feel the tiny things in Will that signaled openness, that expressed a desire for this, however small the spark. He imagined reaching for that small flame, coaxing it to flare, and felt Will's weight transfer against him. James was being kissed back. 

"Really, Norrington, unhand the lad." Jack's tone was both protective and annoyed. 

Smoothly, James lifted his hands from the small of Will's back and held them away. But the kiss did not end. James' whole body thrummed with his pulse. He had never done anything this bad. Until yesterday, he had never just pressed on with what he wanted on impulse. And on that first occasion of such selfishness, he had found himself humiliated. Yet here he was, doing it again. He knew that Will could feel him aching hard against those lean thighs. But Will wasn't moving away. James also knew that Jack was stirred up, angry and aroused, an excellent combination. 

And then, James felt the brush of Will's tongue. That destroyed his ability to strategize, and he pressed back into Will, his hands running up the long back and down to his hips. Will's hands finally anchored themselves on James' waist. James lifted Will a little in his fervor, and the hardness that he found against him was only a slight surprise. A sound of encouragement emerged from James' chest.

"Oh, he is sweet, isn't he?" Jack stepped behind Will and his voice enclosed them all in it's rough grip. "Fresh, and so gentle. You know, I've surmised that to satisfy her wilder nature, Elizabeth does the riding." He delivered the coupe de grace with a light caress to Will's rear.

At the sound of his wife's name, Will bolted backward, delivering himself into Jack's arms. "Oh, God." He scrambled free and went for the door. With a thunk, Jack's dagger materialized in the wood before him, staying the small bar. His hand flew to pull the dagger loose, but Jack was quicker, spinning him and pressing him back against the door.

"A handy trick, I thought." Jack leaned his shoulder against the door. "Kind of you to balance it so perfectly for me." 

"Listen, please, this is not about me. Don't make it about me." Will's eyes were fierce. 

"Ah, but it is about you as well as the other. That's what you fail to grasp."

James interposed himself again and clasped Will's shoulder. "Please don't run. That was entirely my fault."

Will shook his head. "No, it was my fault. This is a dangerous game and I'm out of my league. It's time for me to leave. I already have enough explaining to do. More than I thought." He ran a hand through his hair in worry.

Jack cupped Will's chin and forced him to meet his gaze. "Perhaps you'd best leave me to do the explaining, luv. There's no shame in a young man's blood being up when provoked." He glanced over to James in continued irritation. "And that was truly inspired provocation."

"It's not the shame that worries me." Will lowered his eyes. "I love Elizabeth. I willingly took vows of loyalty. I'm happy. There is no problem between us as husband and wife. Yet." He looked at James. "I cannot be here. You and I agreed that last night would not change things between us. You said you understood."

James nodded sorrowfully. "It is more difficult than I thought."

"Last night?" Jack's lips thinned in growing fury. 

James sighed. "It was not... you would not understand."

Jack's fist closed upon James' shirt. "Tell me you did not spoil him," he hissed. "All games aside, I told you he is for Elizabeth, not for the likes of us."

"Jack, for pity's sake, do not speak of me as a virgin to be spoiled or not." Will pushed past them both and went to the fireplace. "I've gone and meddled in this... thing that has yet to happen between my stubborn friends. I did not know how complicated it could become." He wiped his brow. "He did not touch me, Jack. I acted your part to illustrate something."

Jack released James. He looked from Will to James and back. "My part? I'm afraid you've lost me."

"To prove to James that he was only drawn to me because I remind him of you."

A series of responses moved over Jack's features which then settled on amusement. "Well, luv, to convince anyone of that they'd have to be blind and deaf." He folded his arms. "You pretended to be me."

"More or less." Will gamely met his gaze.

"Show me."

Will looked stricken. "Jack..."

"No, really, this will be worth the miserable, sneaking journey here all by itself."

"Jack, I think we should leave well enough alone," James spoke up again. 

"William, I'm asking you.” The fact of Jack _asking_ startled all three to quiet.

There was a long silence during which Will waited for Jack to relent. He did not. "Very well, but I am certain we will all be sorry." Will drew off his greatcoat and vest. "I had a kerchief." Jack whisked one out of his own coat and waggled it, black, of course. Will took it. "And ah, kohl." 

Jack raised an eyebrow. He fished in his pockets and came up with a stubby piece. "You do know this is for the glare off the water? And only that."

Will managed a wan smile. "Still, it's part of the whole... effect."

"I'll grant you that, lad," Jack replied.

Will went around the corner where the rear of the fireplace wall formed an alcove for the small bed. He faced himself in the hanging mirror and attempted to summon Jack from within.

While Will was out of sight, Jack went to the door and retrieved his dagger, tucking it away again without showing where. James pulled off his wig, set it aside, and ruffled his hair loose from his skull, feeling slightly more relaxed with the attention off him.

When Jack turned back from the door, he could not conceal his surprise. He came up and inspected James overly closely. "I much prefer you without it. Don't know why those damned things ever came into fashion."

"Please, don't be so rough on Will, he means well," whispered James.

Jack hissed, "Don't be thick, I'm not persecuting him. Just try to keep up with me here." Then, he raised his voice. "Hurry up, Will, haven't got all night." Then, he grinned and said, confidentially, "Actually, we do." 

There was a shadowy movement and a figure came forward and leaned on the post by the fireplace. "A man shouldn't be in such a rush. He's bound to miss the finer things that way."

Jack took a step back. His doppelganger took a step forward, pushing away from the post. Then another. The rolling walk wasn't at all a caricature, it was a sincere imitation. The man went directly to James.

"Commodore, I thought we had moved on, left young William in our wake to swim to shore. How is it that he remains between us, even after last night?"

James stepped forward, closer. "I tried to tell you last night. And tonight. The displacement of a certain desire, you were right about that." He reached out and ran a thumb under a black-rimmed eye. "But that does not suddenly render Will undesirable. I told a white lie, to spare him the truth, for he so wanted me to be at ease." 

"Let him go." It was Jack's voice, but Will's heart.

"I am trying. But you see, this game, you and I competing, warring for the treasure, has shown me something more."

The illusion of Jack circled behind James and leaned close to his ear. "What?"

The familiar yet deepened voice, so close, hardened James again. He continued, "I've been alone so long that I am starving." He closed his eyes to protect himself from his own honesty. "Will is correct, I want you. But I want him too. I'm obsessed with thoughts of you both." His voice trembled. "You know, I've never been touched, not really. I've only ever paid for it. Worse, I've never brought anyone real pleasure."

Those long, brown hands, the ones bearing scars of the smithy but none of torture or branding, slid up James' sides and around his chest. The slim body stepped close. James leaned back in the embrace, feeling the heat and hardness of genuine response against him. It emboldened him. "Last night, watching you, wanting so badly to touch you, I could still see Will. He never left. Kissing him tonight, oh God, with the taste of your blood in my mouth...." He stopped as teeth on his neck and the answering roiling deep in his belly prevented further articulation. 

"No, he never really left us last night. But he must. Tonight. Let me have you. Let me have all of you. I can show you freedom you've only glimpsed. We both know the ecstasy of the open sea. The joy and isolation of command. The pain of losses. We are equals. Let me have you."

James moaned, and three bodies froze at the sound. 

Jack had backed against the door, transfixed by the sight of almost-himself stripping James of his careful discipline, word by husky word. James' moan had caught Will almost going too far. James could feel, in the thrumming lack of motion, that Will had been ready to lose himself pressed against the muscles of James' backside. 

Will gasped and began to back away, but Jack's arms went around him from behind. The sharp nose probed into his neck, followed by remarkably soft lips. The heat of Jack's body enveloped him and the pirate's arousal could not be mistaken for anything else. 

Jack rumbled in his ear, his smile evident, "You are the devil himself come to rob us of our senses, to tempt us straight into hell. And I, for one, would willingly follow you there. Call out the bearings."

James turned in Will's arms. They were Will's arms again, and the warm eyes were his as well. James pulled off the kerchief and stuffed it in Jack's pocket. "I apologize for kissing you when you had asked me not to. Though it is difficult to be truly sorry, I was carried away." He filled the spaces between his fingers with Will's thick hair, unwilling to disengage yet. 

Will looked miserable. "I deceived myself. Elizabeth probably knows as well. I've been hiding from it. I'm not hiding any longer, but I still have to leave. Now. Before..."

"I know. Stay just a moment longer." James pulled Will's face into his neck and grabbed for Jack, bringing their mouths together in a fervent kiss. Jack's hands gripped James' forearms. They slid closer, surrounding Will with passion, their kisses glancing off his skin as well. 

"A shame, Will," breathed Jack between kisses with James, "that you have to go. Since it turns out you can be roused by the likes of us, you should know the joys to follow. With women or men, life is most about this one thing. And you have had a hand in unleashing James, you should enjoy him."

"A hand indeed, Jack, you should have seen him." James sought Jack's mouth again. Their hips shifted toward one another, catching Will in the middle. 

"Sweet Jesus, stop, both of you," Will panted. 

They eased back. "Right, a kiss goodnight and it's off to Elizabeth's bed where you belong." Jack's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I think tonight I'll be proved wrong about who is the forward lover between you."

"I'll thank you to stop speculating about my wife." 

"Mm. Don't be thanking me yet, I've no plans of stopping my speculations." Boldly, Jack's hand went between Will's thighs and he gave him a hard stroke, eliciting a strangled noise. "I'm gratified to know that you aren't immune to me despite your many protestations." He gave Will the sweetest, lightest, most un-Jack of kisses. "Tell your wife the absolute truth: that the incorrigible pirate would not let you alone, barred the door, played awful games with you against your will just to make a certain officer jealous, and left you in a state of confusion that only she can mend."

"That's clever," replied James, chuckling and moving away to collect Will's vest and coat for him. "Perhaps she'll laugh that easy laugh of hers, and all will be better." He dabbed ineffectually at the kohl. "At least tonight you are returning to her unspent. That should help." He winked at Jack over Will's shoulder, catching Jack's renewed disbelief. 

And then, he could not resist a last kiss, gently opening Will's mouth beneath his, feeling the long eyelashes brush his cheek as Will blinked. At the end of it, he said, "I'll let you go, but know that if you come to me again, I will not be able to turn you away, so do not count on my strength." 

Will backed toward the door. "Believe me, I understand." He opened it and slipped out.

"Oh, William?" Jack said, sweetly.

"Yes?" Will's worried face reappeared. 

"My thanks." Jack's hands steepled before his face and he bowed.

Will nodded with a sheepish smile and shut the door. "And now," Jack turned on James, "there is a rather large matter of that comment you made." He draped an arm around James' shoulders and interposed a thigh between the ivory-clad legs.

James slipped a hand to the small of Jack's back and snugged him closer. "About Will?"

"Ah yes, I'm dying of curiosity about that, but another startling bit of news has my interest first."

"Which, then?"

"About you never having been touched, 'not really,' as you put it." The fingers of Jack's free hand walked up the outside of James' coat and slipped under the collar of his shirt. "This must be dealt with immediately. Or would you be wanting me to simply recommend the better professionals and point you into town."

"I think I've waited quite long enough for the genuine article." Without dislodging Jack, James drew off his greatcoat and tossed it away with vigor. He spread his arms. "My 'fine, blue uniform' has been ripped off," he said, dryly.

"Oh, the boy will have to be punished for that." Jack's voice grated warmly and the gold on his eyeteeth shone out. "I kept his secret."

"But he didn't. He told me, through your words, of his own response." James stroked the side of Jack's neck. "And I'm afraid you will have to stop calling him 'the boy,'" he said meaningfully.

Jack's fingers went to James' elaborate waistcoat and flicked open the buttons. "Does he know, I wonder, that he is the personification of fucking?"

"I don't believe so," chuckled James.

"And I don't believe I'll be telling him." Jack's eyes smoldered and he made certain to chafe his cock along the juncture of James' thigh and hip. "I'll leave the pagan icon to shine in the dark for all of us, innocent of its power, and take to bed a man who's not afraid of me."

James smiled and shrugged out of the waistcoat. "In his place?"

"No, James. I only take what I want for its own sake." 

"Because I'm not afraid of you?"

"To see if you are indeed the man who appears in my waking dreams. The one who pleases me so well through my own hands that I rarely seek another's touch." Jack's lips brushed into the gap at the throat of James' starched shirt. "The one who, until this evening, always kept his wig on. Strange that I didn't remedy that." Pine tar-stained fingers ruffled through James' short crop. "The man is younger than I thought for all his sternness and responsibility. How old, I wonder?"

"Twenty nine, next month."

"Mm, a shame to have waited all this time. Never had a man?" He breathed, untying James' cravat. 

"An aspiring officer knows not to indulge with the other sailors."

"That’s not an answer."

James paid attention to the fingers, avoiding the eyes. "Never."

"Tell me something that made you understand how you are." 

James arched his neck as Jack bared and stroked it, but he stayed quiet. Jack did not prompt him, just continued his sultry kisses until the right story came to mind. 

After some minutes, James found his voice again, "On one shore leave I found myself alone at a brothel, separated from the others. There was a man there, another customer, making his selection from among the women. I could not keep my eyes off him." He paused and closed his eyes. "I have never given voice to this story."

"In this regard, and perhaps only this," Jack's eyes were intensely sober as he spoke, "you are safe with me."

The meaning was not to be ignored or taken lightly. James nodded.

"Describe him for me." The fingers continued tracing, moving up the side of James' neck to curl around an ear and then to slip along jaw to chin.

"He was… not handsome exactly. Beautiful, not like a woman would be, but with the sort of fineness…. You know," he said sheepishly, "I possessed a vocabulary before today."

"He was like Will?" Jack offered, along with a brush of his lips and no laughter.

"With that quality. Older, at least thirty. Black hair, golden skin. Elegant clothing."

"Did you approach him?"

James nearly laughed. "That wouldn't be possible. Not for me. Not then. And he was busy with the women fawning over him. The proprietress must have seen me watching him. She said she understood my kind and promised me a special surprise for my good coin. It was the first time I heard anyone put a name to my sort of predilection without laughing or intending offense."

"I believe that you've located that vocabulary of yours," quipped Jack, fixing his teeth lightly on an earlobe. "And what did this fine woman offer you?"

"She put me in a surprisingly nice room to wait. I did not know what to expect, but I trembled with the anticipation of it. Of course, I could not prevent myself from hoping that through some miracle, the man from the great room would come through the door." James drew an unsure breath as Jack moved on skillfully to his shirt buttons.

"Go on, you have my undivided attention."

James sighed. "The boy who came to me instead was far too young. My heart ached for his situation. We talked, and I confessed I could not do what I wished and I told him why. He seemed surprised and said that was precisely what most men who chose him liked. I threw caution to the wind and explained how he had come to be selected for me. It was the first time I had ever expressed aloud my desire for another man."

Jack's lips drifted down to the white flesh high on James' chest as his fingers bared it. Wrapped in the distraction of his memory, James could not hear his own intake of breath at the feel of Jack's mouth. Jack smiled against skin spared of sun by the clothing of rank where a common seaman would be bronzed.

"He was no innocent, not by far, poor lad. He got this wicked look in his eye and said, 'I know just what you need, Sir.' He took me by the hand through the labyrinth of the place. At length, I found myself side by side with him in a tiny closet. He locked the door. I could hear moans coming from close by. He leaned in and whispered, 'Be ever so quiet.' He slid aside a panel and we were looking through a silk screen into another room."

"The beautiful man's room." Jack supplied with a caress and a kiss.

"Indeed. By now, he was naked, standing by the bed, and this woman, still wearing most of her clothing, knelt at his feet. He was..." James faltered. "To watch was such a gift. She toyed with him until he begged, in a language I didn't know, and then she took him in her mouth. I had not seen that before, though looking back, I'd surprised a couple of sailors once in the midst of such a thing. I was ignorant and they were clever. At any rate, he obviously loved what she was doing and I thought I might burst apart right there."

"But that clever boy, he wasn't finished with you was he?"

"No." James leaned into Jack's nuzzling. "He managed to unbutton my trousers without me noticing." 

"Distraction. Good lad. Pirate technique."

"I felt his hand on me, and then the other clapped over my mouth. 'It's all right,' he murmured, 'I like this.' So to my later shame, I let him. And I asked him if he minded that I didn't touch him. 'Sir,' he said, 'I'd rather do it myself anyway. Don't get much opportunity to have it the way I like.' He settled my arm around his shoulders instead."

Jack spoke then. "He felt burning hot against your side, and though he couldn't seem to keep his own breath, he timed your release with the man on the other side of the screen. You stifled it but still thought you might have died. The boy shuddered with you and gasped his pleasure in your ear. Too young for a grown man's touch he would have been, but I remember being that young. Couldn't keep my hands off myself." 

James' cock actually jumped in his trousers and he knew Jack felt it. "Such a common occurrence that you've heard it all before?" he asked with a fierce blush. But he tingled with the recollection and with Jack's touch and words.

"No, my dear Commodore, I'm a pirate, a natural spinner of yarns. It was the likely outcome from that point on. I just thought you might enjoy hearing it in my voice."

"I did." He had expected Jack to be physically rough and crass, not yearning and gentle as Will had portrayed him. The words were saucy enough, but the feel of the real Jack was unexpectedly decadent, like the feather bed James had finally allowed himself after years of hammocks and hard pallets. Still, on some level, James resisted his desire.

"How old were you in that brothel?"

James recalled it clearly. "Just turned seventeen."

"How very much older an aspiring officer could think himself at seventeen than a worldly coquette of a few years younger," he chided. "Not only not touched, really, but not allowed to touch." The fingers moved lower, side to side, brushing the shirt aside as they traveled. "Ever?"

"Right." James was shamed by how soft his voice sounded.

"So sad. No woman fulfills when you want something else entirely. When you want to know the feel of someone else's hard flesh in your hand, not just your own." Jack's mouth moved close to James' ear again, the feel of the words raising a shiver along James' skin. "No wonder you couldn't steer clear of William. Having him underfoot all the time must have been painful. Those wide eyes. That skin. And then, last night, something else, something more." 

"Still not allowed to touch," grinned James, "And he was you, not himself. Don't forget."

"I find that so intriguing. Should be insulted, really, but instead," he shrugged and slid James' shirt off broad shoulders. It joined the waistcoat on the floor. "I've not seen him entirely naked, you know."

James gulped. "This subject?"

"Is perfectly right by me," replied Jack. "It helps me to know you, the better to please you. And I don't ever mind hearing about Will. Naked Will -- even better."

"You are a rogue." James thrilled at the thought that Jack wanted to please him and covered it with a playful insult.

"Absolutely. Say it again, just that way."

"You are a rogue."

Jack rewarded him with a deep kiss. "We'll not sleep tonight, you know. Perhaps catch a nap in the early dawn. But I intend to assist you in redeeming lost time. So tell me of our dear... young man and do not rush your words." He nipped James' neck. "I enjoy them, and they keep me from tearing off our clothes and ending this too soon to suit either of us." A small groan escaped James and Jack said, "Tell me more."

"I accosted him in the smithy yesterday afternoon." James' face heated with renewed shame.

"What exactly does "accosted" mean in this circumstance?"

"I confronted him about you, about the dagger and the wound you gave me. Used the opportunity to ascertain whether he had feelings for you other than friendship. And then I lost my mind. I dropped to my knees and tried to..." He gestured, at a loss for words.

"Wonderful!" cried Jack. "Did he allow it? Wait, of course not, he wouldn't. Did you persist?"

"At first. He begged me to stop. But it wasn't until he used... my title, that I came to my senses."

James arms filled with Jack. At his ear, Jack said, "He was hard. Just like that day with me on the ship, pressed against the mast, his head thrown back while I kissed him. Just like tonight."

"He couldn't help it, Jack, it's a reflex."

"He couldn't help it, James, because he likes it." Jack traced the long, thin scab at the base of James' throat. "He came to you later."

"He came to my room to bring me the dagger. And to put things right between us."

Jack made a skeptical noise, "And to satisfy a nagging curiosity. Just my opinion."

"But he proceeded to turn himself into you. As you saw tonight."

"It was always Will. He knew that, which is why he didn't let you touch him." 

James whimpered at the thought. 

"Exactly, luv," replied Jack. One hand slid down and cupped James like it had earlier in the stable. "Tell me, is he as breathtaking with his clothing off? I already know some of his qualities by touch." Jack squirmed closer.

James' breath shuddered its way through his body. "Gorgeous," was all he said.

"Did he -- I -- come for you?" 

"Yes." James could only whisper. 

"By his own hand only?"

"Yes."

"Did you?" Jack moved his hand away, sliding it around to James' back.

"Yes."

"I would have loved to watch that." Jack trailed his hands up James' bare back and then down again to slip into the back of the trousers. "Where are a crafty boy and a silk screen when you need them," he murmured. 

James could not help but chuckle at the idea. "Not likely found in my barracks."

"A shame. Do go on. And when you had spent yourselves, then what?"

"Afterward, I lost my nerve. There was Will, not you, lying there next to me. Bit of a shock. Not a wanton pirate of experience but my tender friend. Trying to show me that I was attempting to sink my treasure at sea when I should be guarding it with my life." With a hand on Jack's jaw, James pushed him away far enough to look in his eyes. "So here we are, thanks to him. And to Elizabeth. Shall we squander it, or profit from it?"

"Profit is always preferable." Jack smiled. "You do realize that Will is no longer between us. Unless, of course, we want him to be." The smile became a wicked grin. "But suddenly he's not, shall we say, a hindrance or distraction." 

"No. But I think we have caused trouble for him."

"Doubt it. Elizabeth is a bit of a naughty lass." He laughed at James' skeptical eyebrow. "And against myth, married women can be quite insatiable. Even with their husbands." He winked. "Particularly if the husband is Will. You know, I let Elizabeth dress me tonight. She didn't say why except that a Captain of my standing should show off once in awhile. But I'm really more of a comfortable clothing sort of man."

"The fine cloth becomes you. She has good taste. It isn't foppish or ostentatious."

"And it has various niceties." Jack reached down and unlaced the leather breeches. "Back to the topic at hand." He clasped one of James' hands. "Am I to understand that you've yet to touch a man in his full glory?"

James smiled. "Not unless I count myself." Then he blushed. "Well, and Will, yesterday, in the smithy. Only through his clothing." 

Without saying another word, Jack drew the hand down into the front of his breeches, under the linen within, then removed his own hand to see what James would do. First, James' fingers brushed him, then explored, then curled to grasp him tightly, palm pressing inward. 

The flesh felt familiar, of course, but the sensation of it passed to him only through his hand and his awareness of Jack's pleasure. He stroked up, and then down, listening to the tiny changes in Jack's breath. James stroked harder and then in a flurry, he knelt and pulled the clothing away, springing Jack free of confinement.

Jack's cock waited, poised, thick and vulgar with its lack of sheath. James' fingers stroked over the dark head that gleamed with a drop of wetness already smeared from his first caress. James raised his eyes. Jack's shone back with amusement. "Is there a problem, sailor?" His mouth twisted wryly. "Too much for you, then?"

James fingered the taunting flesh and looked for a scar. "You've been..." The foreign word evaded him.

"A Turkish doctor attended my mother." Jack shrugged. "Hazard of a traveling life. Bit of a conversation piece, eh?" he said lightly, shifting on his feet as if to move away. James caught his hips. 

"Don't." James regarded his prize for a moment longer, then and began to work it as he would his own. He dipped back in the breeches and continued his exploration.

Jack's hand fell on his hair and caressed lightly. "Been alone too long," he whispered down at James, "my grand chart for a long night appears to be crumbling in your hands."

James studied each little change he caused, deepening color, tightening skin, a twitch here, a pulse there, the appearance of another viscous drop. His mouth began to water. The scent he had caught earlier strengthened and his own cock moved in answer. He took a tighter grip, causing Jack's breath to hiss inward, and then he covered the swollen head with his mouth. 

"Gods," said Jack, "all of them," he tried to quip through gritted teeth. His other hand found the side of James' face and stroked it.

James was too absorbed to smile, though he appreciated the humor. He tasted and felt with his tongue, sweeping along and around, mapping the shapes. For a few minutes, Jack did not speak, only made sharp noises of pleasure. James began to answer them. 

"James, stop or..." the ragged edge to Jack's voice cut off the last word. He tried again. "I don't think you'll like it." His answer arrived in the form of redoubled effort. Although he struggled against it, the novice mouth was too earnest, too eager. "Hell's kitchen, I'm a pirate, what do I care what you do and don't like?" Jack let his hips slide forward, but James neither flinched nor choked. It only a few more moments, Jack came in hard, long spurts, groaning his last protest up into the rafters. 

Jack stood trembling, panting. "That was... remarkable," he said at last. "I seem at a temporary loss for an apropos piratism."

James carefully let go of Jack's cock and pressed his forehead to a muscular thigh. The bliss of having at last brought that release for another person flooded over him. He could feel the heaviness of damp lashes against his cheeks and he blinked away the tears. "You taste good," he said. 

Again, Jack groaned. "I've a decade of life on you and twice that of experience in these matters. Let's hope with that in my favor I'm able to reward you in kind." He hoisted James to his feet. "Where's the blasted bed?"

They stumbled round the corner, but it was James who pushed him to sit, yanking clothing aside. "My turn to see some of you."

"I'm in rather rough condition," replied Jack, giving warning even as he traced fingers along the sword and knife scars that marred James' pale torso, "worse than you."

"Wouldn't have you any other way," replied James, though his bit his lip at the bullet scars on Jack's chest.

"Fancy a wager?"

"Depends."

"Whomever makes the other beg mercy wins."

James grinned wolfishly. "Stakes?"

"Name your terms."

"If I prevail, you accept the Governor's offer, including my oversight."

Jack looked genuinely surprised, then considered carefully. "Done. And if I win, you bed me for a twelve-month, outlaw or not, whenever our paths cross."

That took James off guard. He had expected Jack to bargain for freedom and was prepared to give it. This was a much more difficult wager. "Done," he heard himself say without further thought.

Jacks lips came near. "And in the eventuality of a draw?" 

"In that eventuality, I say we ask Elizabeth to assign stakes."

"Then, I do not see how I can lose."  
******

James could vaguely see the glow of Jack's sweat-covered body through slitted eyes. On his back, his legs flung wide, James had left the world of rational thought and words. 

One careful finger of Jack's left hand had buried itself in James and moved ever so slightly to a rhythm of pleasure. His right hand was busy ministering to James' cock. 

It had taken the better part of an hour for each to name and explain the other's scars, and then to have the story corrected or embellished by the recipient of the marking wound. By that time, breath was shallow and fast. 

James had begun the teasing journey over the map of Jack's difficult lifetime. When he knew all too well the mark of a shackle left over-tight for too long, he made up a more benign tale, something purposefully ignorant, and waited for Jack to set him right. Sometimes Jack explained. Sometimes he just smiled. 

James did the same with the whip weals and the burns. He thought of the men he had ordered flogged or branded. He had no illusions that they had all been as complex as this particular man, but a measure of his self-righteousness faded as his fingers and lips felt out the permanency of what could be done to the flesh. 

Jack lay easy and apparently relaxed as James sought to know these marks. He moved as needed when James traced something from front to back or back to side. Only his eyes reflected memories of endurance. They also reflected pleasure under this new touch. 

James wondered if he was simply a difficult and rewarding conquest for the pirate nature. Or whether Jack actually needed someone else to take the helm for a time, even over his protests. Either way, he suspected that Captain Jack Sparrow didn't mind losing to win. 

Certain other possibilities began to dawn on James as they continued. That Jack could believe that not all treasure is silver or gold. That he could have deferred the touch of eager lovers for months, preferring the imagined feel of James. That the particular slowness of James' fingers and the impatience of his mouth delighted Jack in a way that until now, James only saw in him when they raced one another on the sea.

Jack reached for the nearby bottle and took a swallow of rum before offering it to James. James took a deep draught, one hand still trailing along Jack's body. He put the bottle back and the second hand returned to its exploration.

James knew what he was in for: he knew Jack would leave, he knew they would continue to fight, for neither would relent or change sides. All clever words aside, the knowledge shone from James eyes. And he was touching Jack anyway. He trusted the balance of power and his own ability to weather pain. From the gaze he received in return, his unflinching entry into the fray was appreciated.

The most difficult moment came when James reached the ritual scarification over Jack's tailbone. Tattoos were every sailor's pride and pastime, the pain of acquisition eased by liquor and carousing. The other scars were consequences of a chosen life, not intended in and of themselves. But this design, carved into what James knew had been young Jack's skin, had real meaning. 

Jack lay on his stomach, arms folded under his head, silent. 

"I've seen this design before," James said after the initial shock, his fingers tracing the colored whorls as if trying to see them better through decades of fading.

Jack tensed. James imagined that he did not explain such things. To anyone. "No, sorry, just looks somewhat familiar," James lied. "So many primitives use scrolling designs." And he moved on, over an unmarked buttock and then up over an old sword stroke on the other hip. His heart pounding with excitement, he could only hope that the act of purposeful avoidance was the right response. Judging from the sudden relaxation of the body beneath him, he had chosen well.

"Speaking of primitives," Jack said with sarcastic emphasis, "how is it that you British have abolition at home yet still profit from the slave trade?" He arched the small of his back to follow the ongoing caress.

James snorted. "Doesn't profit often interfere with what is right?"

"Ah, touché," replied Jack. 

When at last, James had found every mark that remained visible, even the old jaguar bite and the hot iron mark on the sole of one foot, he moved to lie along the length of Jack's body, curling around him. 

"My turn," said Jack with a smile, "to learn your tall tales." 

James could feel that Jack was aroused again but the smoothing movement of the dark hands suggested patience. "In a moment," replied James. He drew and released a long breath.

Jack turned his head to see the closed eyes and savoring expression. He squirmed around until he could face James in the half-embrace, and kissed him. For a long time. 

It seemed to James that when Jack began to move it was with difficulty, as if beneath the surface of a heavy sea. Slowly, he extracted himself from James' limbs and began to examine him with care. 

With renewed laughter, they traded versions of the stories, but Jack's black eyes watched for the tiny betrayals of what felt good. This is how, a quarter hour later, he came to be looking at James already on the edge of losing their wager. 

"It really isn't fair to wager on a man's first proper bedding," teased Jack, the finger inside pressing more firmly. It had the desired effect, and James arched up with even more tension, unable to speak. "But then, the man laying the wager didn't really have incentive to fight fair, did he? Not when the man accepting the wager was willing to risk a year's surrender of his marvelous body? And you could not have known, even in your most desperate daydreams, what this could be like."

He crouched then, straddling James' thigh, and took him in mouth. Only the muster of all his sense of timing learned from the sea, its ebb and flow, made it last. 

James slowly began to give up his other secrets. That he could swear like a common sailor. That he could weep. And in the end, although he had maintained his dignity intact under childhood beatings, harsh military punishment, and a brief instance of torture at the hands of an enemy, he revealed that he could, in fact, beg. Beautifully. He knew the word for mercy in at least three languages other than his own. 

After Jack had enjoyed hearing his own name several times, he curled that finger and delivered mercy.   
*******

James awoke to the sight of Elizabeth's beautiful face as she knelt next to the tiny bed: the rumpled, tangled mess of a bed on which James lay on his side absolutely naked amid the smell of sex. He blinked at her, too completely exhausted and stunned to think or move quickly.

"I brought breakfast," she said brightly. 

"Oh," he managed, trying to think how he could cover himself, shifting a thigh forward. Meanwhile, his mind registered a fact that his body already knew; Jack was gone. He put aside for a moment the wrenching feeling.

Elizabeth lifted a sheet that had made its way to the floor and laid it over his hips. "Is that better? You know, I used to imagine what it would be like to wake up next to you. I wondered what you looked like, naked and asleep."

"But you gave up that chance. You preferred Will in the end." He smiled.

"Ah, but so did you." 

"Excellent point, Mrs. Turner." There seemed no reason not to be candid with her.

"You are different asleep. Softer, less troubled. Will is different too when he sleeps, wilder, more restless than his waking self." Her brow furrowed. "When I chose, perhaps I sensed that you loved me but lacked passion for me. It would have been sad for us, would it not?"

He reached out and smoothed hair back from her face. "Indeed. We would have been friends, which is more than most married people have. But I would never have been able to satisfy you. Not really."

"Nor I you." She smiled shyly. "But you are satisfied this morning?"

James groaned.

"I know. I hardly slept myself," she giggled.

"Elizabeth!"

"Well. If you are going to stir up my husband so and then send him back to me, you deserve to be embarrassed with a report of casualties." She pouted and he laughed.

James' eyes sparkled. "I should tell you that I did not send him back. Decidedly not, I'm afraid. He sent himself back. I owe you an apology for my transgressions over the past two days. A sincere apology. And I should be made to do hard labor in your service."

Brown eyes narrowed. "If you were a woman, I would have stabbed you with my comb while you slept. Or with that dagger my husband made for you. But we are friends of an unusual sort, and I can try to imagine how hard it is to come to the realizations you have of late. To accept that your life is different from what you thought it would be. To have been alone for so long." 

"Thank you. You are a generous soul."

"No, I'm just trying to keep that bloody pirate away from my husband," she quipped. "After all, Will is not entirely who he thought he was either, is he? You, James, are my human sacrifice." She puttered with the tray next to her and offered him a cup of tea. "He accepted, you know."

James' eyes met hers over the cup, his surprise ill-concealed. 

"Yes. He said something about additional terms of yours. We didn't pry."

James grinned. "Funny, I thought they were his terms."

Elizabeth stood and brushed dust from her skirt. "I must return to the house. So much to do. But I wanted a few minutes with you alone and uncensored. I hope we may have such talks from time to time."

"Certainly. Though I should plan to be clothed for them."

"Pity," replied Elizabeth with a twinkle, "but you are doubtless correct." She stood by the post where Will had emerged as Jack the night before. "And James, if Will ever does come to you, don't turn him away on my account. Do send him home to me after." She smiled and was gone, leaving with his cup of tea and pounding heart, contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase "silent as the grave."   
*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written April 2004.

**Author's Note:**

> Written October 2003.


End file.
